Chapter 15
” Not easy to state the change you made./If I’m alive now, then I was dead,/Though, like a stone, unbothered by it,/Staying put according to habit./You didn’t just tow me an inch, no—/ Nor leave me to set my small bald eye/Skyward again, without hope, of course,/Of apprehending blueness, or stars…” ~Sylvia Plath, “Love Letter”
The way Willow and Xander were standing and looking at each other, anyone would have mistaken them for lovers rather than best friends. In fact, if Cordelia or Oz had spotted them, the game would have been up in an instant. Research parties at the library had turned into exercises in self control that they were failing miserably.
“We have to stop this,” Willow whispered.
Xander’s thumbs caressed her hands. “I know. You have Oz, and I have Cordelia.”
“Exactly,” she agreed. “So we can’t do this anymore.”
“You’re right, we can’t.”
Self control once again failing, Xander’s lips caught hers. His kisses were different than Oz’s, tasting of forbidden fruit, of desire long denied. That was most of it right there, at least for Willow. It wasn’t that she loved Xander more than she loved Oz. It was that she’d wanted Xander for so long, so to have him wanting her back was too much to resist.
She just couldn’t help herself.
It just sucked that Xander hadn’t figured out that he liked her a long time ago.
“What are you two doing?”
The voice had them both jumping backwards, ramming into the bookshelves on either side of the aisle where they’d been kissing. Spike stood there, a frown on his face, looking suspicious and uncertain.
“Nothing!” Xander said quickly. “Honest!”
Spike looked over at Willow. “Everything alright here, Red?”
“It’s fine!” she squeaked. “We were just looking for a book.”
The vampire nodded. “Watcher anywhere around here?”
“In his office, I think,” Xander said, jerking his head in the general direction of Giles’ office. “I take it you heard about the new Watcher showing up.”
“What new Watcher?” Spike asked. “Thought Giles was it.”
Willow nodded frantically. Her heart was still racing from being caught out, even though Spike didn’t seem to know exactly what he’d walked in on. “The Council sent a Watcher for Faith.”
Spike gave each of them one more hard look before nodding and striding towards Giles’ office.
“That was too close,” Willow hissed. “We have to stop this, Xander.”
Xander’s eyes widened. “I know! I want to stop. We’re stopping. Right now. We’re done.”
“As of now,” Willow agreed.
Of course, they both knew that they’d made the same promise a hundred times.
~~~~~
“What’s this I hear about a replacement?” Spike asked, leaning against the doorframe.
Giles shot him a dirty look. “She is not a replacement,” he shot back. “Dreadful woman,” he muttered.
Spike snickered. “I take it you weren’t impressed with her.”
“She’s very—efficient,” he admitted grudgingly. Giles turned to face Spike, indignation evident in his face and voice. “She said I was too American!”
Spike couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. “You?” he finally managed to gasp.
Giles felt some relief. “I take it you don’t agree.”
“Rupert, you’re an Englishman to the bone.” Spike shook his head, still chuckling. “What the bloody hell is her problem?”
Giles sat, waving Spike to take a seat on the small loveseat. “According to the Council, some of my methods are questionable.”
“You’ve got one of the best Slayers I’ve ever heard of,” Spike replied, raising an eyebrow in question. “What are they expecting?”
“I don’t know,” Giles replied. “It doesn’t matter. What’s important is that there’s a demon named Lagos who appears to be after the Glove of Myhnegon. If it’s found, the damage could be extensive.”
Spike nodded. “So what’s the plan? We find this glove first?”
“Buffy and Faith are looking for it tonight, and will continue to do so until it is found.”
“What about this other Watcher? What’s she up to?”
“Her name is Gwendolyn Post, and I don’t know,” Giles replied. “I’m still looking for information on where the glove might be. Xander and Willow were helping me look for references to either Lagos or the glove, but they disappeared into the stacks a while ago and I haven’t seen them since.”
Spike shifted uncomfortably. This was one of those occasions where he wasn’t quite sure what to do, or what human custom called for. He was sure that whatever they had been doing, it wasn’t something they ought to have been doing. Spike wasn’t sure he should tell anyone, though. While he and Xander got along well enough, he didn’t feel particularly inclined to help the boy out. Willow was a different matter altogether. Spike didn’t want to see her hurt.
Of course, Oz was his friend too.
“You want me to help look?” Spike asked, wanting to change the subject quickly.
Giles hesitated and then handed him a book. “Certainly. The more dedicated searchers, the more quickly we can get through this ridiculous business.”
Spike lifted an eyebrow, but didn’t respond. He flipped open the book, beginning to search for material relating to Lagos or the Glove of Myhnegon. They worked in silence, with only the occasional rustling of pages.
Even though Spike was trying to keep his concentration on the text, his mind kept wandering to the sight he’d walked in on earlier and to Buffy.
He’d spent the previous evening trying to teach Buffy to drive—”trying” being the operative word. Spike hated to admit defeat, but the girl was positively hopeless. She was pure grace on the battlefield, but put her behind the wheel of a car and she was completely incompetent.
Not that Spike was planning on giving up. He rarely gave up.
It had been nice, though—spending time in Buffy’s company, away from monster-killing, away from life-or-death matters. Although, with Buffy driving, he did feel like he was taking his unlife in his hands.
But she’d been trying. Spike loved how hard she tried.
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Spike shoved it to the side. He wasn’t interested in that sort of thing. He’d been alone for a long time now, and he’d been perfectly content. Spike had been Love’s Bitch, and he wasn’t interested in going there again. It had nearly killed him.
Drusilla’s betrayal had nearly broken him.
The memories hit him like a flood, and Spike’s fists clenched. The sound of his own screams echoed inside of his skull. It was Giles’ voice that finally broke through the memories. “What?”
“I’ve found where the glove is hidden,” Giles said, his face lined in concern. “I say, are you quite alright?”
“Fine,” Spike replied shortly. “Just—remembering something best forgotten. You want me to go after this glove thing?”
Giles looked relieved. “Would you? I’ll let the Post woman know we’ve found it.” The Watcher smiled smugly. “That’ll teach her to think I can’t do my job.”
Spike smirked. “Having me around couldn’t hurt, either. You want me to bring it to the library tomorrow?”
“I’ll send one of the Slayers to get it,” Giles replied. “There’s no need for you to be inconvenienced.”
Spike shrugged. “Whatever. It’s not like I’ve got all that much going on.” He stood. “You give me directions to the glove, and I’ll pick it up tonight. You can call me tomorrow and let me know what’s going on.”
“That sounds fine,” Giles replied, scribbling down the directions. Spike turned to leave, but the Watcher’s words made him pause. “Are you quite sure you’re alright, Spike?”
The vampire took a deep, unnecessary breath. “As alright as anyone in my shoes can be, Rupert.”
With that rather cryptic response, Spike slipped out the door, leaving Giles to stare after him, his curiosity peaked.
~~~~~
Spike retrieved the glove without any trouble. Lagos was nowhere to be seen, nor were the Slayers around. It didn’t hurt his feelings to have something go right for once, though. As late as it was, Spike took a moment to call Giles to let him know that he’d found it. Then he stashed it in the lock box he kept under his bed and read until he was ready to sleep.
The reminder of Drusilla had awoken his nightmares again, and Spike didn’t rest well that night. She and Angelus had been masters of torture, both mental and physical, and while Spike would have liked to forget, there were times when it was impossible.
After the second time he woke gasping, having dreamt of one particularly brutal session, Spike gave up on sleep. He rose and showered, standing under the spray, letting it pound his flesh soothingly.
Once, his wrists had been permanently raw from the manacles they’d used. Once, his best days had been when they had forgotten about him. Spike clenched his fists, remembering when they’d gone off on a killing spree for an entire week and left him alone.
He hadn’t known whether to be relieved or angry, because he’d had nothing to eat for all that time. Angelus had made certain that he didn’t even have access to rats.
With an impatient twist, Spike shut the water off. This was ridiculous. It was over. His tormentors were dead.
They had not broken him, so what did it matter if he still bore the scars?
Spike knew he needed something to distract him, someone to talk to. He also needed to figure out how he was going to deal with Willow and Xander’s situation. There was a part of him that wanted to forget about it, but he couldn’t.
A sudden burst of rage had him throwing his empty mug at the wall, watching it shatter. It gave him less relief than he’d hoped.
“Bugger,” he muttered, staring at the mess, knowing he would now have to clean it up.
The ringing of the doorbell distracted him, and he went to the door, surprised to see Faith on the other side. “What can I do for you?”
Faith’s knowing grin told Spike that she was thinking in double entendres again. “Right now? You can hand over the glove-thing. Giles said you had it, and my Watcher sent me to pick it up.”
Spike hesitated, then stepped aside to let her enter. “Let me grab it for you.”
Faith stayed in the living room, calling after him, “Pretty nice place you got here.”
“It’s not bad,” he replied. “You still at that hotel?”
“Different room, but yeah.” She ran her hand along the soft leather of the sofa. “It’s Spartan.”
Spike frowned slightly, wondering where Faith had picked up that term. The way she said it led him to think that she was proud of it, proud that she didn’t need what anyone else had deemed important. At the same time, he’d heard a longing in her voice when she’d complimented him.
If Faith hadn’t had a Watcher, Spike might have offered her a place to stay, but he figured it was another one of those things that wasn’t any of his business. “Here you go,” he said, handing over the glove, wrapped up in rags. He watched as Faith parted the cloth slightly to get a better look. “Careful,” he warned. “You touch it, and the only way it comes off is when you die.”
“Wicked,” she murmured.
Spike knew the look in her eyes. It came from having been powerless, and then becoming strong again. It was probably the same look he’d had back when he’d a newly risen vampire. There was a piece of him that wanted to offer her something, some lifeline that she could hold on to.
He remained silent, however, since it didn’t appear as though she needed anything from him. Faith had her Watcher, and he’d been asked to help Buffy. Spike didn’t owe her anything.
“I gotta get this to Mrs. Post,” Faith finally said, pushing the rags back into place and tucking it under her arm. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” he replied. “You need my help with Lagos, just call.”
“Will do,” Faith replied, pausing at the door. “You’re okay, you know. For a vampire.”
Spike smirked. “You’re okay for a Slayer.”
She grinned at him. “Just as long as we understand each other.”
When she was gone, Spike turned back to his kitchen. He still had a mess to clean up.
And he had a visit to make.
~~~~~
The appearance of Lagos had Buffy completely forgetting that Willow had been trying to tell her something. The redhead had stammered and gone around in circles for so long that nothing had been shared before the demon showed up. By the time Buffy had killed the demon, she’d been intent on getting back to Giles. She had the feeling that he’d want to gloat about her success to the Post lady.
Evil bitch.
Buffy certainly didn’t envy Faith her new Watcher. That woman would have done better to stay in England. What Buffy hadn’t expected to find were the paramedics carrying Giles out on a stretcher. “Giles!”
“Out of our way, miss,” one of them warned her.
Buffy ran alongside him. “Giles? What happened?”
“Living Fire,” he muttered. “Use…”
There was no time to ask him what he meant by that, even if he’d been coherent enough to tell them what he’d meant. Buffy looked over at Xander. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” he replied. “I came to see if Giles needed help with the research again, and he was laid out on the floor.”
“What about Mrs. Post or Faith?” Buffy demanded. “Have you seen either of them tonight?”
Xander shook his head. “No, not at all. I don’t know where they are.”
Buffy wasn’t sure what to do. Her only option seemed to be finding the other Watcher, who might know what they were supposed to do with the glove anyway. “You guys go see what you can find out about this Living Fire that Giles was talking about,” she said. “I need to find Faith or Mrs. Post.”
She ran to Faith’s motel room first, but there was no answer when she pounded on the door. Buffy found a pay phone and quickly dialed Spike’s number. “Spike.”
“What’s up, Slayer?” he asked.
Buffy quickly told him about Giles. “Have you seen Faith tonight?”
“She came by to get the glove earlier,” he replied. “Told me her Watcher had sent her.”
Buffy bit back a curse. “Did she say where she was taking it?”
“No. Buffy, do you want me to come pick you up? I can—”
“No, that’s okay. I don’t think you can help me on this one, Spike, not unless you know who knocked Giles out, or who might be after that glove other than the demon I just killed.”
“Sorry, pet. Dunno.”
“I’ll talk to you later,” she said, hanging up. Buffy decided to head back to the school, thinking that at least Willow and Xander might have found out something about the Living Fire.
She’d just gotten to the front of the school when she saw Faith running. “Buffy!”
“Faith! What’s going on?”
“Mrs. Post was after the glove,” Faith gasped. There was a trickle of blood down one cheek where something had grazed her. “She’s got it.”
Buffy’s eyes widened. “She’s wearing it?”
“Yeah, and she’s heading this way,” Faith replied. “I think she wants us out of the way. She said something about not letting us destroy it.”
Buffy grabbed the other Slayer’s arm and hustled her into the school. “Willow and Xander are working on it, I think. If that’s what Giles meant about the fire stuff, anyway.”
They raced through the halls to the library, and when they burst through the doors, Willow and Xander both jumped, startled. “What’s up?” Willow asked.
“Mrs. Post is the bad guy,” Buffy quickly explained. “Do you know—”
“I know how to destroy the glove, Buffy,” Willow quickly replied, cutting her off. “But we’ve got to get it off her hand first. And for that—”
“We have to kill her,” Faith supplied. “That’s what Spike said.”
Buffy turned towards the weapons cage. “We’ve got—”
She was interrupted by the sound of the library doors bursting open, Gwendolyn Post standing there with the glove on. “Faith, how nice of you to lead me right to the only other person who might have stopped me. So convenient to only have to make one stop.” She pointed at Buffy. ” Tauo freim !”
Buffy dove out of the way just in time. The bolt of electricity struck the spot where she’d been standing. “Faith! Get weapons!”
“I’m trying!” the other Slayer shouted, rolling as the rogue Watcher tried to hit her. Faith rolled towards Buffy, hissing, “I’ll draw her fire.” Faith was on her feet and running, with Xander and Willow ducking for cover behind the big library desk.
With Mrs. Post’s attention on Faith, Buffy headed for the cage, frantically searching for a weapon she could throw. She knew that there was no way she’d get close enough to use a short-range weapon.
“B! Look out!”
Buffy dropped to the floor, the bolt striking just above her head. She glanced over, spotting a throwing ax that had fallen to the floor. “It’s about time,” she muttered, then braced herself, knowing that she’d only get one change.
She surged to her feet, throwing the ax immediately. Faith had just come out from behind one of the bookshelves, causing Mrs. Post to turn towards her, and presenting her profile to Buffy.
Buffy had thrown the ax in a precise arc, slicing through the rogue Watcher’s arm just above where the glove stopped. Gwendolyn Post screamed, and the energy from the glove became erratic. Both Slayers ran for cover, hearing the Watcher’s screams as the energy burned her up from the inside.
When silence had fallen, they all came out from hiding, staring at the blackened spot on the floor where the glove lay. “So, Willow,” Buffy said rather breathlessly. “You said you can destroy it?”
“Yeah,” Willow nearly squeaked. “I’ll get on that right away.”
Buffy and Faith’s eyes met. “You okay?” Buffy asked.
“Five by five,” Faith replied, her dark eyes unreadable.
Buffy wanted to say something, to tell Faith that it hadn’t been her fault for not knowing, that they’d all been fooled. She didn’t know how to say the words without sounding condescending, however, and so she just nodded. “Good.”